Estelle and Josiah had trekked a few hundred yards when the echo of footsteps suddenly sounded from behind. They exchanged a glance and quickly ducked for cover, splitting up to ambush their pursuers. The first wave consisted of about a dozen castle guards, armed with submachine guns, sweeping the area as they advanced.
Silent as a shadow, Estelle descended from the tree, landing on a guard's shoulders. Her hand clamped over his mouth, twisting sharply, and he crumpled to the ground without a sound. Swiftly, she relieved him of his gun and concealed his body in the underbrush.
Unaware, the rest of the guards continued their advance, oblivious to the fate of their fallen teammate.
The group moved a few more paces when Josiah, perched in a tree about thirty feet ahead, rose to his feet, raised his gun, and fired. "Say hello to St. Peter for me!" he taunted.
The guards instantly scattered, returning fire in panic.
Josiah drew their attention, allowing Estelle to flank the guards from behind. With a burst of gunfire from her appropriated weapon, she took them down.
In under a minute, the dozen men lay lifeless on the forest floor.
"Nice shot!" Josiah flashed Estelle a thumbs-up as he dashed over.
"Let's move. The gunfire will attract more guards!" Estelle grabbed another rifle from the ground and, with Josiah, quickly retreated.
After about ten minutes, they encountered another group of castle guards hastening towards the depths of the woods.
Josiah winked at Estelle and asked, "Take 'em out?"
Estelle, hiding in the bushes, assessed the nearly thirty-strong patrol with a frown. "No, this time we tail them!"
Josiah nodded in understanding.
Using the landing gear, Josiah leapt onto the aircraft.
The plane was on its side, with the entrance gaping skyward. Josiah slipped into the cabin and quickly scanned the area for Amiee but found no trace of her. It was a relief; Amiee must have parachuted to safety.
He exhaled quietly and made his way to the cockpit.
There, he found the pilot stuck in his seat, unable to escape before the crash. Knocked unconscious by the violent turbulence, the pilot was luckily still buckled in, which had prevented him from being hurled against the windshield.
Sensing someone's approach, the trained pilot stirred from his stupor and instinctively grabbed his gun, aiming at Josiah.
Josiah swiftly covered the man's mouth, glanced behind, and signaled for silence. The pilot hesitated, giving Josiah the chance to deliver a swift chop to his neck, knocking him out cold.
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